Heroes of a Different Kind
by Dream Painter
Summary: Harry Potter was a famous celebrity in the Wizarding World. Wizards everywhere knew of Harry Potter's name and Harry Potter's scar. But Harry didn't want to be a celebrity, or a savior, or the Boy-Who-Lived-particularly since 'Harry' wasn't a boy, at all. AU
1. Part I: Chapter 1

**Heroes of a Different Kind**  
>by Dream Painter<p>

**Summary Part I: **_Harry__ Potter was a famous celebrity in the Wizarding World. But Harry didn't want to be a celebrity, or a savior, or the Boy-Who-Lived – particularly since 'Harry' wasn't a boy, at all. AU  
><em>

**Author's Note:** _I hope you give this story a chance._

_I have long been a fan of gender benders, so I suppose it was inevitable that I'd up writing one of these. As far as girl!Harry fics go, I know only that they exist, I have never read any of them, so the writing of this story is wholly unaffected by other such tales._

_It is my intent to do a full-series retelling with this story, but we'll have to see how it goes. There will definitely be a logical conclusion, either way. Each year will be divided into parts which will have their own subtitle, as well as a new summary._

**Disclaimer:**_ All things Harry Potter do not belong to me. I hereby disclaim any possession of them._

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><p><strong>PART I: A World Apart<strong>

_**Chapter One**_

0o0

Bright, green eyes opened to the sound of pounding at the door. A small hand reached out in search of the glasses resting on the bedside table.

"Are ya up, yet?" A rather whiny-sounding voice accompanied the insistent knocking, this time. "You gotta get up – you hafta make breakfast!"

"I'm up, already," snapped the room's occupant, throwing back the covers as she sat up.

The door opened and a blond-haired boy peeked around it. "I'm getting in the shower, then, _Jamie-poo_." He jerked out of the way with a laugh as a pillow was launched at him.

"I'd rather be Jamie-poo than _Diddy-dums_," retorted the girl loudly. She ran to the doorway as the boy disappeared into the bathroom. "And you'd better not burn the bacon when it's _my_ birthday, Dudley Dursley!" she shouted after him.

A short while later, the two children were seated at the breakfast table with two adults. The first was a rather rotund man with a bushy mustache. At the moment, his expression was solemn and he was shaking his head as he read the paper. The other, a woman, was as thin as the man was round. She appeared to be very stern.

"Dudley, put some fruit on your plate," she was saying, presently.

"Aw, but mum!" Dudley whined. "It's my birthday."

"I don't care if it's the Queen's birthday. You will eat a balanced breakfast," she told him, then turned to the girl. "For heaven's sake, Jamie, eat your eggs and toast. I have no idea why you're so excited. It's not like you haven't been to the zoo, before."

"There's a new exhibit, this year," said Jamie, eyes bright with enthusiasm.

"New exhibit or not, you're not going anywhere until you've eaten. And drink your juice."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

Once breakfast was finished and Dudley's presents opened and put away ("There weren't as many as last year," Dudley had lamented. "You've nowhere to put them, anyway," Jamie had quipped.), they left for the zoo. The rest of the morning passed quickly, Dudley and Jamie taking turns mimicking the various animals or bickering as any two children who grew up together were wont to do.

It was after lunch that they went to the reptile house.

"You're not supposed to disturb them," Jamie told Dudley for the dozenth time as he tapped on the glass of the largest snake he could find.

"Your cousin's right," said Dudley's dad, Vernon. "Let's go over there, son. Looks like that snake is awake."

Dudley shot Jamie a glare and sulkily went to look at the other snake. Jamie stuck her tongue out at him, before turning back to the snoozing boa constrictor.

"Don't mind him," Jamie said. "He can sleep through anything, so it doesn't bother him if people knock on his walls."

The snake's eyes abruptly opened and it moved up and forward until it was eye-level with the girl.

"Can you hear me?" she asked, wonder spreading across her young face. As the snake nodded, the girl grinned excitedly. "You're from Brazil, aren't you? Did you like it there?"

The creature jabbed its tale at the plaque and Jamie saw the small print she hadn't read. "Oh... so, you were born here." Before she could say anything more, Dudley started to shout at the top of his lungs from a short distance away, causing her to jump in surprise.

"MUM! DAD! Look at this snake!" The boy hurried over, elbowing past Jamie to get right next to the glass.

Jamie stumbled as Dudley shoved his way in front of the boa constrictor. Tripping over her feet, she fell to the floor, scraping her palms on the concrete. Annoyed, palms stinging, the girl shot her cousin a glare as he leaned against the glass.

Suddenly, nothing was separating the large boy from the exhibit... or the snake from the reptile house.

"DUDLEY!" Jamie cried as she watched him topple into the water at the bottom of the tank. The boa slithered out onto the floor and people started to scream.

"_Thanksss..._"

Jamie's head jerked around, but she could not tell where the hissing voice had come from. She did spot her aunt, however.

"Aunt Tuney!" she shouted.

But Petunia and Vernon both were already hurrying over, even as the girl turned to try and help her cousin out of the tank.

"Up you get, lad," Vernon said, grabbing Dudley by the shoulders and pulling him out a minute later. He looked almost as scared as Dudley.

Petunia pressed Jamie protectively against her side. "What have I told you about bullying your cousin?" she demanded of Dudley, voice trembling.

"I wasn't bullying her!" Dudley denied, frightened and confused.

At the same time, Jamie exclaimed, "Dudley was looking at the snake when the glass disappeared!"

"Shh," her aunt hushed her, tapping her fingers against the girl's mouth. "Off to the car. We're leaving."

The zoo staff offered profuse apologies, but Aunt Petunia said that it was quite alright and, after accepting a towel for the soaked Dudley, rushed the four of them out to the parking lot. As they drove away, Jamie looked over at her cousin.

"I'm sorry, Dudley," she said quietly.

"Whatever are you sorry for?" Petunia demanded sharply, her plain features still drawn in concern.

"Well, the glass didn't just disappear on its own, did it?" reasoned Jamie. "I... I think it was me."

"Nonsense," contradicted the woman. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Then, where did it go?"

"I do not know. I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation."

"But, Aunt Tuney, the glass was there when -"

"Jamie Lynn Potter!" snapped Aunt Petunia. "_Enough!_ You are a perfectly ordinary ten-year-old girl. You are _not_ responsible for the glass disappearing."

Uncle Vernon peered solemnly at Jamie through the rear-view mirror, then exchanged a glance with his wife. "We'll go home and get Dudders dried off," he said, "then we can have a movie night in, maybe order some pizza. How does that sound?"

Dudley, who had been gazing wide-eyed between his mother and his cousin and back again, perked up at this. "Can we watch one of my new movies?"

"Of course, dear," Petunia responded with a smile as she turned back around. "I know you've wanted to see some of the movies we got for Dudley, too, Jamie. Doesn't that sound fun, dear?"

Jamie gave a small smile and nodded before looking out the window, once more, not entirely convinced she wasn't really at fault.

0o0o0

A month passed. Jamie and Dudley had both – for a time – forgotten the events at the zoo. Jamie was currently seated at the breakfast table, helping herself to some oatmeal with walnuts and brown sugar. Dudley entered the room, jabbing his cousin in the ribs with his Smelting stick.

"Ouch!" Jamie exclaimed, annoyed more than hurt. Dudley had been carrying the stupid thing around since he'd gotten his uniform and the girl had long since become fed up with his using it poke and prod at her. Snatching it from the boy's hand, she smacked him in the shoulder with it.

"HEY!" shouted Dudley, trying to snatch it back.

"_Children,_" Uncle Vernon warned from behind his newspaper.

Aunt Petunia plucked the implement from Jamie's hand as she passed, setting it down on the kitchen counter before taking her seat at the table. "Both of you know better than to roughhouse at the table," she admonished.

"But Dudley poked me with that _stupid_ stick!" protested Jamie.

"You're just jealous that you don't have one," accused Dudley.

"Oh, please. Like I'd want to wear your ugly uniform – the colors don't even match. The Emer uniform is so much better."

"Enough bickering!" interrupted Petunia. "Now, both of you, stop antagonizing your cousin and eat your breakfasts!"

Jamie was considering a second bowl of oatmeal and fruit, and Dudley, his fourth piece of toast, when a familiar _clink_ from the hallway announced the arrival of the mail.

"Go get the mail, Dudley," his father told him.

"Jamie's not in the middle of eatin' anything," Dudley responded around a mouthful of toast.

"Jamie, the mail, please," said Vernon.

"Dudley's already eaten enough for all of us," the girl pouted, getting up, anyway. She shuffled through the short stack of mail, frowning down at an envelope made of thick, yellowish parchment.

"Anything for me?" Dudley demanded as she returned.

"No fines from the library," she responded, "you must have remembered to turn in your books."

The boy stuck his tongue out at her and she returned the gesture before passing everything but the strange envelope to her uncle.

"Do we know a Mr. H. Potter?" Jamie asked.

Uncle Vernon immediately brought down his paper and Aunt Petunia dropped her fork. Jamie looked back at them in surprise.

"Is he a relative of mine?" she questioned. Turning over the envelope, she broke the seal.

Petunia took it from her before she could pull out the letter. "How many times have you been told it's wrong to open letters that aren't addressed to you?"

"Well, maybe it was a mistake!" reasoned Jamie. "The name might be wrong, but that letter is addressed straight to my room! Maybe it was meant for me. Besides, I'm the only Potter that lives in this house."

"If it was s'posed to be for you, it'd say 'J. Potter', wouldn't it?" put in Dudley.

"Precisely," declared Vernon. "Well thought out, my boy."

Jamie scowled at Dudley as she retook her seat. "Well, who's H. Potter, then?" she wanted to know.

"Well, there certainly isn't one here, now, is there?" Aunt Petunia replied. "Certainly not anyone you would know."

Unsatisfied with this response, the girl slouched back in her chair, all thoughts of seconds gone.

0o0o0

The two cousins lay on the rug on Jamie's floor, shoulder to shoulder, their feet pointing in opposite directions. It was the middle of the night and both were meant to be in bed. Instead, they were up, talking in whispers while the adults slept.

"I can't believe they burned it," murmured the girl. "It's not like it actually belonged to anybody. That makes it alright to read, doesn't it?"

"I dunno," replied Dudley. "You'd think so."

"What if it was someone trying to reach my dad?" questioned Jamie. "Maybe they don't know he's dead."

"Can't be. Your dad's name is James, isn't it? Mum said you were named after him, remember?"

Jamie sighed. "That's right." The girl propped herself up on an elbow to look down at the boy's face. "Who do you think Mr. _H._ Potter is, then?"

"Maybe you have a brother?" Dudley suggested. "Mum and Dad couldn't keep you both, so they sent him away."

"That's ridiculous." Jamie laid back down and stared towards the ceiling. She couldn't see it in the dark without her glasses. "Aunt Tuney wouldn't send her own sister's child away. She and your dad would make things work, somehow. I know they would."

It was Dudley's turn to prop himself up to look down at her. "But don't you think, sometimes, the only reason they kept you is because you're a girl?" he asked. "Mum always said she'd hoped I'd be a girl, but I wasn't. They already had me and I was a boy. Maybe if you'd come along and been a boy, too, they wouldn't have liked you as much."

"Dudley Dursley, that is a horrible thing to say!" scolded Jamie.

The boy shrugged one shoulder. "Could be true, though," he pointed out.

Jamie turned her head away from him, lips pursed.

"Who do you think the letter was from, anyway?" Dudley continued, returning to his previous position on the rug.

"Envelope didn't say," Jamie replied, picturing the strange letter with its green ink and purple wax seal in her mind. "Guess we'll never find out."

0o0o0

"There's another one!" Dudley shouted from the hallway the next morning. "'Mr. H. Potter, Front Corner Bedroom, 4 Privet -'"

But Jamie had already jumped up from her chair and ran for the hall, her aunt and uncle close behind her. She grabbed the letter her cousin held out for her and started up the stairs. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon caught her by the wrist before she could make it very far, gently prying it from her fingers.

"It's mine!" Jamie cried fiercely as he handed it to his wife. "'Front Corner Bedroom' – that's _me_! It's my letter and I want to read it!"

"Jamie Lynn," Aunt Petunia admonished sharply. "You mind your tone, young lady."

"But it _is_ mine," the girl insisted pleadingly. "They wouldn't have sent the letter again if it were all a mistake. It's addressed to my bedroom – it has to be mine."

"That's quite enough. If you keep this up, you can do Dudley's chores right along with yours, this week."

The girl's face twisted into a mutinous expression and, for a moment, it seemed her aunt would have to carry through with her threat. After a moment, however, Jamie let out a frustrated huff and stomped up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Go, finish your breakfast, Dudley," Vernon spoke when he noticed the boy trying to peek at the envelope in his mother's hand. Dudley looked up at him sheepishly, then made his way back to the kitchen.

"What if they keep trying?" Petunia asked him once Dudley was out of sight. "I won't have her mixed up in all of that – I won't! It'd be my sister all over again." She blinked rapidly to rid herself of the moisture forming in her eyes.

"There, there, Pet," her husband soothed. "I'm sure they'll only try a few more times before they give up. Everything will turn out as it should, you'll see."

The woman nodded. "I suppose you're right," she said quietly.

0o0o0

It was Sunday and Jamie was in a foul mood. Dudley wisely kept his distance and had even gone so far as to stash his Smelting stick in his room for good measure.

More letters had come. First, three one day, then twelve the next, and at least a couple dozen the day after that. Jamie had even tried sneaking out to get the post before the mailman put it through the slot, but her aunt and uncle had outwitted her, so she still hadn't read a single line of the mysterious missive. It really irritated her because she hated not knowing things.

Now, it was Sunday, however, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had allowed themselves to relax a bit. After all, mail didn't arrive on Sundays.

She was just wondering why, exactly, her aunt and uncle were so set against her reading it, when the sound of something pushing through the mail slot broke the quiet. Aunt Petunia immediately reached out to grab her arm, but Jamie was already up and racing for the entryway.

"_Jamie_!"

Jamie halted momentarily in surprise upon entering the hall. Letters were shooting out from the mail slot and fluttering through the air. The girl let out a laugh at how funny and extraordinary and _marvelous_ it was when she remembered her goal. Snatching an envelope from the air, she jerked open the door to the cupboard under the stairs and hurried inside, pulling it shut behind her.

It was yanked open again a split-second later and her uncle plucked the letter from her hand.

"But Uncle Vernon!" she protested, frustrated tears springing to her eyes as she moved back out of the cupboard.

"Up to your room," her aunt cut in, taking her by the shoulders and steering her towards the stairs. "Right now, until we get this mess cleaned up."

"_Aunt Tuney_..."

"_Now_, Jamie Lynn, or you can forget the exhibit on Tuesday."

"It's just a stupid letter!" Jamie cried angrily, then made her way to her bedroom with enough noise for several children her size. Dudley made to go after her, but was stopped by his father, who held a hand out in front of him.

"What?" asked Dudley.

"Hand it over," Vernon said.

"Hand what over?"

"That letter you plan on giving to your cousin."

Sighing, Dudley obeyed. Once his parents were satisfied that he wasn't hiding any other letters, they allowed him to go up the stairs.

"Jamie?" The boy knocked quietly at her door.

"It's open!" Jamie snarled.

Dudley entered the room, closing the door behind him. When Jamie was nowhere to be seen, the boy felt his heart sink. She was under the bed and that meant one thing: Jamie was crying. Jamie hated people to see her cry – had since she was little – and so she always hid herself where no one could see her. At home, that meant facing the wall under her bed.

"You alright?" he asked.

"No, I'm not alright!" Jamie snapped, and Dudley could hear the tears in her voice, now. "I'm so mad, I could just scream! What's the big deal, anyway? Why won't they let me read the stupid letter?"

"Maybe, mum and dad think it's something that might hurt you," Dudley suggested.

There was silence for a moment, then a sniffle. "You mean, you don't think they're just being stupid?"

"Well, no. I mean, they read the first letter, didn't they?" The boy moved across the room and sat on the floor, his back against the bedpost. "Adults do a lot of funny things, but I don't think they'd work so hard to keep a letter from you over something stupid."

"Maybe you're right," Jamie conceded doubtfully. "I still don't like it!"

They fell quiet.

"Are you gonna come out from there?" the boy asked after a bit.

There was movement under the bed, then Jamie's head and shoulders appeared from beneath the frame. Her long black hair was a mess and her face was splotchy from crying. Tear bright green eyes met Dudley's blue gaze.

"Do you think I'm being silly?" queried the girl.

"Nah. I'd be the same way if it was me," Dudley assured her.

Jamie sniffled some more and pulled herself the rest of the way out from under her bed. "I just wanna know who it's from and who they're trying to contact."

"Me, too," her cousin agreed. "You really ought to stop crying, now, though. You're real ugly when you cry."

She slapped him on the leg and he responded with the appropriate amount of pain and outrage. Soon, they were both laughing and smiling again, the troublesome letters temporarily forgotten.

0o0

_To be continued..._

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><p><em>Kindly review.<em>


	2. Part I: Chapter 2

**A/N:**_ I just wanted to give a special thanks to all those who reviewed Chapter One! I'm very pleased people are giving this story a chance - I have a lot of plans for it. I realize it was a really long delay since the first chapter, and I do apologize, but there shouldn't be any quite that long, anymore. __However, I am going to be focusing primarily on _The Boy Who..?_ and_ Grief Like Fear_, so updates may be slower than for either of those. I am on Christmas break at present, though, so I have a little extra time for writing. You will definitely see more of this before I return to school._

_Shutting up, now._

* * *

><p><strong><span>Heroes of a Different Kind<span>  
><strong>_**Part I: A World Apart**_

**0o0**

**Chapter Two**

Tuesday arrived bright and early for Jamie, who simply couldn't sleep in a moment longer. After rudely shaking her cousin awake, she flitted about her morning routine, sans breakfast-related chores, a smile on her face all the while.

No letters had arrived with the post that day, though, they had been scattered all over the yard the day before. Jamie had gazed at them longingly before finally allowing Dudley to drag her off to go get ice cream. While she was a bit disappointed that the letter writer had given up, she didn't stay down for long. It was her birthday, after all, and few things could dampen her spirit.

Uncle Vernon had had to go to the office for a few hours, but after he got back, they were going to eat at a restaurant and visit an art exhibit in London. Dudley had complained loudly about the 'boring' plans, but Jamie was thrilled. She loved art and drawing – she had whole sketchbooks full of what her cousin teasingly referred to as 'Jamie's Scribbles'.

Only, they weren't scribbles. In fact, Jamie was quite a good artist for being only just eleven-years-old. It was why she had wanted to attend Emer School for Girls – they had a very good arts program. Aunt Petunia always said Jamie inherited her talent from Grandpa Evans. One of her birthday gifts that day had been a painting he had done.

"My grandfather painted this?" Jamie had asked, gazing at the painting reverently. It depicted an old playground, a bit of rust visible on the swing-set and paint peeling from the merry-go-round. The scene was a bit dismal, really, but was entirely redeemed by two bright spots. The first was a girl about the same age as Jamie, red hair shining in the sunlight streaming through the trees, a smile gracing her young features. Another girl stood watch nearby, dark waves of hair framing a face which was clearly full of affection for the playing redhead.

"Yes," Aunt Petunia had answered. "He painted it when your mother was your age. Your uncle and I found it in the attic a couple months ago and thought you might like it for your room."

"Oh, I love it!" Jamie had exclaimed earnestly. "It's lovely. This little girl," she had pointed to the redhead. "She's my mum, isn't she?" At her aunt's nod, she pointed to the other girl. "And my Aunt Tuney. But... who is this little boy?"

Aunt Petunia had looked in surprise as Jamie pointed out the little boy in raggedy clothes crouching beside a tree, half-hidden by a bush as he enviously watched the girls playing in the sunlight.

"I – I don't know," the woman had stammered, looking a bit startled. She obviously had not noticed the boy before Jamie pointed him out.

"Please, don't take it back!" Jamie had begged, fearing her aunt wouldn't let her keep it anymore.

"Of course, we won't, dear," Petunia had reassured. "It's your painting, now." She still looked a bit shaken, but Jamie took her at her word.

The painting was now leaning against Jamie's wall, waiting for Uncle Vernon to hang it up later that day. Smiling at the picture, Jamie finished putting on her shoes as someone rang the doorbell. Aunt Petunia answered it.

"Aunt Tuney," the girl said, grimacing as she walked down the steps. "You braided my hair too tight. It's starting to hurt." She had a hand pressed to the base of her right pigtail, her bangs on that side brushed back from her forehead. It wasn't until she'd reached the bottom of the stairs that she noticed the visitor standing in the doorway.

"Oh, hullo. How do you do?" greeted Jamie, bringing her hand down. She gazed at the stranger curiously, taking in the woman's odd attire. Belatedly, she noted that the woman was staring back at her, wide eyes fixed on Jamie's forehead. _On her scar_. The girl hastily patted her bangs back into place, taking a step back up the stairs.

"Up to your room, Jamie," Aunt Petunia commanded tensely.

"But, Aunt Petunia, wh–"

"Right this instant, Jamie Lynn Potter!" This time, her aunt's tone was so sharp that Jamie flinched at the sound of it.

"Merciful heavens!" the stranger at the door finally murmured, looking utterly bewildered. The woman turned towards the front walk, raising her right arm, holding a funny stick, somewhat like a conductor's baton, in her hand. She murmured something Jamie couldn't understand and a burst of white light shot from the end of the stick, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"What was th–" Jamie started to ask.

"ROOM! NOW!" Aunt Petunia fairly shouted.

Startled, the girl ran up the steps and to her bedroom, darting to the window that looked out the front of the house to see what sort of vehicle the strange woman had arrived in. To her surprise, she was unable to spot an unfamiliar car anywhere along the street. Quickly moving to the side window, she peered up the drive, in case she might have missed something.

Movement drew her gaze downwards, and Jamie's mouth dropped open in shock. In the side yard, just on Number 4's side of the hedge and in the space between the shed and the fence, a man suddenly popped into existence. Dashing to her door, she rushed back down the steps, Dudley coming out of his room as she passed.

"Aunt Petunia, this man appeared –" The girl broke off abruptly as the man in question made his way through the front door. He was a rather strange sight, wearing what appeared to be a midnight blue... dress with crescent moons and stars. His hair and beard, both snowy white, easily reached his waist and half-moon spectacles sat perched upon a crooked nose.

"Ah, Mrs. Dursley, I presume?" he was saying to Aunt Petunia, his gaze sweeping about the entry hall and its occupants before coming to rest on the woman who had arrived before him. "Now, Minerva, what is so terribly urgent that you insisted I come immediately?" When Minerva just stared at him incredulously, he took another look around. Seeming to miss whatever it was his companion expected him to see, he turned to look at her once more.

Sighing exasperatedly, the woman nodded towards Jamie and said, "That's Potter."

Piercing blue eyes instantly fixed on Jamie and the girl immediately clapped a hand over her forehead in response. He looked between Jamie and Petunia and back again. Finally, he asked, "What in Merlin's name have you done to the boy?"

"B-boy?" Jamie sputtered, taking a couple steps down and closer to them. "I'm not a _boy!_" The idea horrified her.

"Back upstairs!" Aunt Petunia commanded, face pale as she pointed up the stairs. "Both of you."

Jamie turned to see her cousin a few steps above her. "But, Aunt Tuney –" she protested.

"Dudley, take your cousin upstairs!" the woman cut her off.

Dudley reached out and took Jamie by the arm. "C'mon, Jamie," he murmured.

"Not that I wish to undermine your authority in front of your children," said the man, "but I'm afraid we have much to discuss which Mister, pardon me, _Miss_ Potter ought to be present for." He came around the side of the staircase, blue eyes focused on Jamie. Jamie turned to look down at him, tightly gripping the banister in both hands as she gazed curiously back at him.

"Who are you?" Jamie asked.

The man smiled kindly at her, blue eyes twinkling. "My name is Albus Dumbledore," he told her, "and this charming woman is Minerva McGonagall. And you are?"

It seemed a silly question to ask, as it was apparent that the visitors knew who she was already, but the girl answered, nonetheless. "Jamie Potter, sir."

"Jamie Potter?" he repeated. "Well, you have grown to be a pretty little girl, Jamie Potter. You have your mother's eyes. In fact, seeing you like this, I can see quite a bit of your mother in you, though, I suspect others will only ever see your father, James."

"You knew my parents?" Jamie asked eagerly. The man reached out a hand and Jamie tensed, but didn't flinch away as he brushed her bangs aside to peer at the lightening bolt scar on her forehead.

"It would seem so," he answered, then turned to face Petunia. "Though, I'm not entirely sure I understand. We had left James and Lily's _son_ in your care all those years ago."

"You left my sister's child – _alone_ – on our doorstep in the middle of the night without even bothering to find out whether she was boy or a girl," Petunia spat at him. (Dudley and Jamie were quite shocked by her rudeness, as they had never heard her address someone like that before.)

Albus Dumbledore frowned. "But the child's legal name is Harry James Potter," he stated. "Why would your sister and her husband give their daughter a boy's name and register her as being male?"

"H. Potter," Jamie whispered to her cousin. "The letters really were meant for me!" Dudley merely nodded.

"I'm sure my sister had her reasons," Petunia responded curtly. "Perhaps, they believed their child would be safer if everyone believed she was a boy. I guess we'll never know."

"No, I don't suspect we will," the old man agreed mildly. "Now, shall we all have a sit and begin? As I've said, we have much to discuss." He looked at Petunia expectantly.

"My husband isn't home right now," she blandly informed him.

As with all inopportune moments, it was then that Vernon's car could be heard pulling into the drive. The man, Dumbledore, smiled at this impeccable timing, while Aunt Petunia and Minerva McGonagall both pursed their lips. Upon seeing the two visitors in the entryway, Uncle Vernon's expression quickly changed from surprise to displeasure.

"And you must be Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"What do you want?" Vernon demanded. "Why are you here?"

Jamie straightened from where she was still leaning over the banister. "These people say my name is Harry, which means those _were_ my letters," she declared, making her way to the bottom of the steps. The girl looked up questioningly at her uncle and aunt. "But... is my name _really_ Harry? How come I didn't know that? And even if it is," she turned her attention back to the visitors, "shouldn't the letters have been addressed to _Miss_ H. Potter?"

"Perhaps we should have have a spot of tea and a chat," Dumbledore suggested amiably, though, there was a bit of steel in his gaze. They would be having a chat, one way or another.

Uncle Vernon's face grew a bit purple and Aunt Petunia's settled into a bunch of harsh lines.

"The parlor is this way," Aunt Petunia said curtly.

Jamie and Dudley exchanged wide-eyed looks and followed the adults. No one said anything about Dudley tagging along.

"Now," said Dumbledore, settling himself into a floral armchair a few minutes later. He looked out of place there to Jamie. The man belonged in a medieval fairytale, not in Aunt Petunia's parlor, drinking tea from Aunt Petunia's china. Minerva McGonagall didn't look any less out of place, either, as she appeared to be distinctly uncomfortable. Or maybe the woman was so stern she just never smiled.

Dumbledore continued talking. "As I am sure you have already guessed, we have come to discuss young Jamie's attendance at Hogwarts."

"Where?" Jamie asked at once. She exchanged a look with Dudley. He didn't have any idea what the man was talking about, either.

"Absolutely not!" Uncle Vernon declared. "We decided that it is in our niece's best interest if she remained well clear of all that nonsense."

"What nonsense?" the girl wanted to know.

"What a very fine question, Miss Potter," Dumbledore beamed. He glanced at Minerva who pulled a large, yellow envelope from her clothes and held it out to her. The man nodded for her to take it.

Jamie accepted it, slowly turning it over in her hands. She glanced uncertainly at her guardians, first at Uncle Vernon, who looked resigned, then at Aunt Petunia, who had pursed her lips unhappily. Neither said that she couldn't open it, so she finally broke the seal and pulled out the funny pieces of paper that were inside. Her eyes widened in surprise at the header on the page, but the rest of the letter was every bit as strange. Dudley plucked the page from her hand so he could look at it closer.

"'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'?" he exclaimed. "But – there's no such thing as witches or wizards."

"Magic doesn't exist," Jamie elaborated, gazing at the visitors with curious green eyes.

"Doesn't exist?" echoed Minerva McGonagall, sputtering slightly. "Child of the Potters and she says _magic_ doesn't exist! Albus!"

"Hm," said Dumbledore lightly. "This is very serious, indeed. It would seem we have made an error, Minerva." He moved to rise from his seat.

"What sort of error?" Jamie and Dudley asked eagerly at the same time.

"Well," the man said thoughtfully. "You say that magic doesn't exist." His blue eyes focused on Jamie as he went on. "I take that to mean that you've never done anything you couldn't explain, like when you were scared or angry, perhaps? Something that neither your aunt nor your uncle could explain, either?"

Jamie's eyes widened. How did he know? "I made my hair grow back when Aunt Tuney had to cut it all off," the girl volunteered. That had been awful. Dudley and Jamie's entire class had gotten head lice one year. Aunt Petunia had shaved Dudley's whole head and some of Jamie's, too.

"She ended up on top of the shed when Ripper was chasing her one time," Dudley contributed.

"And..." Jamie grew quiet, frowning unhappily. She gave her aunt and uncle a rather betrayed look. "I made the glass to the boa constrictor exhibit disappear when Dudley shoved me."

"That is quite enough," Aunt Petunia interrupted, standing abruptly. "You will leave. Both of you."

"But I did, didn't I?" the girl asked, also on her feet now. "Those things that have happened – you knew I was the one doing them, didn't you? Why didn't tell me I had magic?" Hurt entered her tone. "Why didn't you tell the truth?"

"Magic killed Lily!" her aunt exclaimed. She crouched down in front of the girl, hands wrapping gently around her arms. "It killed your mother and your father. It's the reason you don't have any parents, Jamie, the reason you have to stay with us. I couldn't bear for anything to happen to you, as well."

"You said they were killed by bad people," Jamie said quietly. Aunt Petunia's lips pressed into a very thin line, although she didn't look away. "Did... was magic used to kill them?"

When her aunt did not respond, the girl looked over at the visitors, who both looked very grim. Her eyes began to sting and Jamie blinked very rapidly to make them stop. Somehow, that made it a bit worse. Like any child, she had tried to imagine what the world would be like if magic existed, how wonderful it would be, but to learn it had been used to kill her parents...

"Miss Potter," Minerva McGonagall spoke up for the first time since they settled in the parlor. She spoke very gently in a Scottish brogue. "What you must understand is that magic, like all things, can be used for ill in the wrong hands. Magic itself is neither good nor bad. Each person has to decide for him- or herself."

Jamie was looking at Aunt Petunia again, meeting the woman's gaze. It occurred to the girl then that her aunt was afraid. She could see it in her eyes, although she couldn't remember seeing her aunt afraid before. Only, that wasn't quite right, because Jamie had seen it. Aunt Petunia was afraid _for_ Jamie, just as the woman had been afraid for her or Dudley sometimes in the past.

"If I..." Jamie began, pausing uncertainly as she looked at the strangers once more. "If I don't use it... does it go away?"

It was McGonagall who answered. "No. It is something you are born with or not at all."

"But if I go to your school I can learn to control it?"

"Most definitely," Dumbledore replied.

"Absolutely not," said Aunt Petunia. "I will not have her part of all that!"

"But what if something happens? Like at the zoo – Dudley could have been hurt!" Jamie protested. "If I can learn to control it, isn't that better? You always tell us to be responsible."

"Vernon," Petunia turned to her husband for support.

The man didn't answer for a moment and when he did, he sounded a bit pained. "Jamie's got a point, Pet. I think we should let her go." His wife rose to her feet and turned towards the doorway with her arms wrapped around her middle, clearly upset.

"Good," Dumbledore said brightly. Jamie wasn't so sure she agreed with him. "Now, the only other pressing concern is the matter of young Jamie's gender. As I said before, legally, she is registered as a boy."

"You can't be suggesting that she attend school as one?" This came from McGonagall.

"That's presposterous!" huffed Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia looked scandalized. Dudley had let out a laugh, though, so Jamie kicked him.

"While ordinarily I would agree with you, we do need to keep in mind that Harry Potter is a household name in our world. You can be certain that nearly everyone will recognize Miss Potter's scar. If people were to find out that he were really a she... Well, there are some who might feel free to find a way to exploit this fact," reasoned Dumbledore.

The adults went back and forth over this for some time while Jamie and Dudley sat back and watched them. Their heads bounced between the adults as they spoke, giving them the resemblance of spectators at a tennis match. Eventually, Dumbledore won out, after promising that Jamie would be given special accommodations so she would not have to stay in the boys' dormitories. He was clearly better at such things, and no one in the room seemed quite happy with him.

"So... I have to pretend to be a _boy_?" Jamie asked at the end of it all to make sure she had followed things properly. Her aunt stalked out of the room and McGonagall looked a bit disgruntled. The girl was starting to think maybe she should take her chances at learning to control her magic without going to school for it.

"Just don't grow your hair back, this time," Dudley quipped, unable to hide his amusement at the thought. Jamie smacked him in the shoulder and he didn't even have to pretend that it hurt, this time.

0o0

_To be continue..._


End file.
